


And Maybe it's Time to Move on

by microphoneMessiah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/microphoneMessiah/pseuds/microphoneMessiah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee waits even though he knows what's to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Maybe it's Time to Move on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keychainet](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=keychainet).



It’s about a quarter of an hour until midnight and he hasn’t shown up.

You’d be lying if you said you expected him to be there. If you expected him to get off the train, luggage in hand and a wide smile on his face that tells you that he’s going to be there for awhile.

Tells you things are going to be better now.

It’s ten minutes until midnight and you can’t help but remember.

You remember the softness of his voice, even when he was tough on you for making a mess of the living room walls. You remember the way he had that odd laugh, old and breathy. You remember the way he used to lift you on his shoulders while you both explored the town, you were laughing and clinging to him like he was solid ground after falling. Land after sinking. Like he would be there forever.

It’s silly you think

Seven minutes and counting until you’ve been waiting for a solid nine hours.

that you could expect so much out of one person.

It’s your own fault for getting excited and trying to anticipate all the emotions and feelings you’d jump around with, finally seeing him again after so damn long.

Five minutes and you’re thinking of the way he said your name when he told you he was leaving again. His voice ached with pain you wouldn’t understand until he was gone. Eyes tired. Hand gestures drooping and slower than you’d ever seen them.

Two minutes

Two minutes and you’re replaying him leaving. Mind flitting through images of packed bags and ears ringing with his whispers. The car outside, that old, purple pick up truck you used to tease him about, calling it a lame car. The way it turns on with a choke in the night and then roars. The tears you don’t know you’re crying as it eases out of the driveway, a slow stop before heading out into the night.

You’re crying again now as it hits midnight.

It hits midnight and you’re mind finally acknowledges the fact that he isn’t coming. That you haven’t eaten a thing since the morning

(nervousness, butterflies, anxiety, and a chopped salad of mild depression)

You sob as you feel a hand slide up and down your back. The owner of which is whispering something to you; something that sounds like words of a song. He pulls you into his chest and sings ever so lightly, petting your hair.

‘Que sera. Sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see. Que sera. Sera.’

**Author's Note:**

> keychainet, on tumblr, was sad and having sad, daddy feels.
> 
> i get those too, so i figured, why not?


End file.
